


New Mexico

by alcibiades



Series: A well-traveled and versatile lifestyle [1]
Category: Breaking Bad, Inception (2010)
Genre: Gen, References to Addiction, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:04:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcibiades/pseuds/alcibiades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur takes a job in New Mexico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Mexico

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soubriquet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soubriquet/gifts).



"How the mighty have fallen," Arthur says under his breath, pulling his gloves on and trying not to stir up too much dust as he walks toward the trailer. It reminds him of that scene in Kill Bill where Uma Thurman goes to find Bill's cowboy-hat wearing brother, only infinitely more depressing because it's real and he isn't carrying out revenge. Not his own revenge, anyway.

It's so isolated that there wasn't even anyone around to see him pull up. Normally this sort of thing would dictate more caution, but this whole situation appears to Arthur to be nothing more than a long, rickety freight train full of fuck-ups and bad-decisions. Nobody involved can seem to pull off what they want to do without accidentally shooting themselves in the foot, and it is thus that Arthur has chosen to eschew his ordinary stringent precautions in favor of getting this over with as soon as possible. These aren't dreamshare criminals. These are just your ordinary run-of-the-mill drug dealers, even the ones that have delusions to the contrary.

He draws his sidearm and turns the doorknob - it's not locked, which almost makes sense considering this is the middle of nowhere. The door swings open easily and Arthur's first thought is that whoever wanted this guy dead could have just waited for him to do it himself, considering the amount of drug paraphernalia that's immediately visible. It smells like sweat and weed, and as he steps inside he can see a Roomba drifting aimlessly back and forth across the six feet of space between the walls.

He clears the room and finds the mark in what passes for the bedroom, sprawled out on top of one of those ugly faux-Mexican blankets. The guy is young, younger than Arthur. His breathing and his surroundings tell Arthur that he's sleeping the sleep of the opiate-intoxicated, and Arthur holsters the gun again. No need to waste a bullet here.

Gingerly, he climbs onto the bed, but the kid doesn't stir even a little, his eyes moving hectically beneath his eyelids in what must be a feverish dream. Arthur gets both knees on the mark's chest and puts one hand over his nose and mouth, sealing his fingers together so that no air can escape. The kid's eyes fly open, a wide, watery blue like a desert sky, but it doesn't matter - he can't draw enough breath with Arthur's full weight on his chest to do anything other than grasp ineffectually at Arthur's clothing. It's all over soon enough. He checks the pulse to make sure.

Arthur leaves the trailer and wipes the dust from his shoes as he sits in the car. He texts "Done" to a phone number using a cell phone he will later drop into a stranger's pocket at the airport. He pulls away, leaving nothing behind.


End file.
